A Little Black Heart
by Little-Clementine
Summary: Drabbles about random events in the VA characters life. Rating may vary. Accepting ideas.
1. Perfection

**So, once in a while, I'll write a couple of drabbles to post here. Don't expect daily post but do expect them to be different!**

**Review!**

POV: Lissa

Word count: 379

Rate: K

Perfection

When it came to her looks, Lissa was a real perfectionist.

She knew it sounded shallow to many, but she really cared about how she looked.

Ever since her family had passed away and she was the one who had to live up to the Dragomir title, she had taken great measures to make herself look prim and presentable at all times.

She would never want to do anything to taint her family name and to royals, looks mattered. So she had to do everything to look the way the others wanted her to look.

She never left her dorm without every hair in its place and her make-up done to perfection.

Years past and she no longer need to look perfect anymore since she was the most powerful person in the Moroi world. (She would never say it out loud though, that would just be rude and self-centered.)

But the habit of looking perfect stuck, so therefore she hated the little black dot tattooed onto her forearm.

To her, it looked like an unhealthy beauty mark and on days she had practiced a little too much Spirit, she was convinced it turned alive and mocked her.

She could not get it surgically removed, for it still held the compulsion that forbid her to babble about the monarchy tests and to be honest, the scar would annoy her just as much.

She had used foundation and thick bracelets to try and cover it up, but in the end, it was always there. She started the habit of scratching it, convinced after some time it would go away. She even scrubbed it roughly in the shower, to no use, of course.

Then, one morning, she woke up with a throbbing head, a room full of empty cans, a snoring best friend on her floor and no recollection of the previous night.

She started scratching the little evil dot, only to realize it was more sore than usual.

The little black tattoo had transformed into a little black heart like a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly.

Oh well... At least the dot's gone...


	2. Cheers

**I admit, this one is kind of strange.**

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 223**

**Rate: T**

****Cheers

Rose was definately not a morning person. Anyone who has ever tried waking her up knew this.

Yet, Hans always insisted on early morning Guardian meeting.

For Rose, these were pure torture.

One specific morning, after Rose had only had 2 hours sleep since Queen Vasilisa had just returned from a 5 month trip to China, she stumbled into the conference room five minutes late, rubbing her eyes and still dressed in her ratty pajamas considering of an old, tattered Guns 'n Roses T-shirt and loose cotton, baby blue shorts.

"Guardian Hathaway!" Hans barked. "Your tardiness and choice of attire is unacceptable! You are to be presentable at all times and this reflects badly on yourself and-"

"What are you talking about? I put of a bra for you guys." She muttered, pouring herself a cup of dark coffee. She hated coffee with a passion, yet extreme situations cost extreme measures.

An awkward silence followed her statement which she didn't realized.

Then, across the room, Guardian Eddie Castile started cracking up.

"I've missed you, Rose. No one can make a room of Guardians shut up as quick as you can."

As a sign of acknowledgement, she held up her steaming coffee.

"Cheers."


	3. Neck

**I could please get some reviews? This turned out a bit different than I imagined.**

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 412**

**Rate: T**

Neck

I'm pretty sure you don't need a step by step to how it happened, but in the end Dimitri and I lay on our bed, lips dancing against each other.

An eager Dimitri (we hadn't seen each other for months) wanted to take it to the next level, so he broke the kiss and started placing hasty kisses down my neck.

While he was sucking my skin in the crook of my neck, I suddenly jerked my hips up, catching him by surprise.

Dimitri (accidently, of course) bit down a little too hard, drawing blood.

We both froze. The sense of deja vu slammed into me and I hastily had to remind myself that Dimitri wasn't a strigoi anymore, wasn't trying to suck my blood.

He, slowly and eerily calm, pulled back so he was sitting upright.

His hair was slightly messed up and from his lips hung my blood.

Suddenly I was catapulted back a year, when Dimitri had held my captive. My natural instincts took over and I scooted away from Dimitri, in fear he might attack.

Seconds later, the stupid instinct passed, yet Dimitri had noticed and looked broken hearted.

After a stuttered apology, Dimitri grabbed his beloved duster and left.

I immediately cursed myself for acting so cruel and followed him.

But damn, he was fast!

When I finally found him, he was sitting at a small cute fountain. He was looking deep into the dark blue water, sadness a very prominent emotion in his eyes. He seemed so vulnerable to the world, so unlike his guarded self.

"I overreacted. I'm so sorry." I gushed, pulling him into a hug.

He didn't seem to be mad at me, just happy I was here. He rested his head against my shoulder.

"How am I supposed to find peace with it if everything keeps reminding me of it?"

I didn't know how to answer his broken plea, so I just sat there and held him. Afterall, even the most badass people need a little comfort sometimes.

"I'm so sorry about that," He brushed a finger gently along the wound.

I shrugged it off, "I've had worse."

Since then, Dimitri has been avoiding my neck area when it comes to kissing.


	4. The Turtle

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 222 (awesome!)**

**Rating: K**

The Turtle**  
**

Having a pet has never in 18 years crossed my mind; I was convinced that pets are for lonely people who need someone to talk to since they have no social life.

Turns out: I'm the biggest hypocrite alive.

In my defense, having a best friend who's always too busy to hang out and a boyfriend who had temporarily moved away for work will not keep you entertained.

Beware: you will be spending your Friday and Saturday nights on your couch in your comfiest sweats, painting your toenails a colour called Golden Peach and watching old cartoon and comedy serie re-runs.

Yes, I give you the right to shudder.

Suddenly, as if out of no where, I wanted a pet. Preferably something adorable.

Then I remember they hate me.

I mull over this for a second, until I found the perfect solution.

The next day after my shift, I went directly to the closet petshop and bought myself a turtle which I christened Sheldon. (I think you can guess what cartoon and comedy series I had been watching the previous night.)

He was perfect.

But let me tell you, Dimitri was not impressed.

**Give Sheldon the Turtle a review? **


	5. The Turtle Part 2

**Don't worry, I won't post anymore on Sheldon ;) Enjoy!**

**POV: Rose**

**Word count:198**

**Rating: K+**

The Turtle Part 2

Sheldon is the most chill pet in this planet.

He doesn't need a cage, I just let him crawl where ever he wanted. All I had to do was make sure the front door was shut tightly. Dimitri always complained about how he was always scared he would step on Sheldon, but I couldn't resist seeing him waddle around the living room.

I don't know how I managed it without him for eighteen years. He was like my therapist, listening to my problems and waving at me with a little fin to cheer me up. I love him like crazy.

Luckily, all he needed was a few lettuce leaves.

...and yearly vet visits.

The first time I went was after a year of Sheldon being my therapist.

It was fine. The vet was charming but laughed way to much. No really issues.

Except for a minor issue the pet shop had overseen when they sold him to me.

Nothing big, really.

All I had to re-name Sheldon to Shelly.


	6. Oyster

**POV: Dimtri**

**Word count: 362**

**Rate: K**

Oyster

"You know what? You're like an oyster."

Until Rose compared me to a seashell, the morning routine was the usual as these last few weeks: Rose arriving fashionably late each morning and me finally getting to catch up on my reading while she was doing her stretches.

"Erm... What?" An oyster? That was definitely something I've never been called before.

She straightened up and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, you are. You know, you clamp shut when anyone comes near you and you, like, keep everything to yourself and are really hard to open up and in the end you have this beautiful pearl inside you!"

Her words slurred together through her excitement... Yet over what she was so excited about was still a mystery to me.

"I have beautiful pearl inside me?" That, once again, was something no one has ever said to me before.

She looked a little embarrassed, but got over it quickly, "Okay, maybe I went a little overboard at the end, but you know what I mean! Man, I'm a genius! Who knew I was the master of similies? My English teacher definately didn't. Now, Dimitri, do you want to talk about your oyster-iness?"

I was deadpan. I usually always had a response to Roses witty comments, but this time she truly had me speechless.

"Go do your laps."

"See? Like right now, you'd rather I snap all my leg muscles than let me be your charge free therapist."

That's when I realized, this was a ploy to get out of running.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Your not getting out of laps."

"Dammit." She groaned before stomping out of the gym.

I leaned back and started reading again, but I couldn't concentrate on what was going on. Her words kept replaying in my mind... How could an eighteen year old girl who I've known for less than a month read me so well?


	7. Pillow

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 251**

**Rate: T**

Pillow

The thing with alarm clocks is - I never seem to hear them. My punctuality, over the years, has suffered due to this. That is, until I moved in with Dimitri.

This morning, after I hit the snooze button a dozen times, he ripped open the heavy curtains to allow afternoon sunshine to filter into the room and awaken me. Sad, considering in my dreams I was just about to jump into a chocolate waterfall. (Don't ask.)

"Morning beautiful." His silvery voice managed to make its way through the pillow I buried myself under. How could it be morning already? And how could Dimitri be fit already, after last nights... Activities? Maybe I should start drinking coffee? It seems to work on other people.

"Unngh, go put on your contact lenses." I respond, referring to his 'beautiful' comment. I knew damn well I don't look anything near pretty in the morning.

I heard Dimitri place his mug on the bedside table before trying to coax the pillow off my face. "Contacts? I don't wear contacts."

"Well, go buy some," I slapped his hands and turned to my side, entangling myself more into the blanket. "Oh, and on the way, turn off the sun, please. Thanks."

He openly laughed at me. I would've glared at him, if it weren't too bright to lift my head.

His footsteps retreated.

"I'll give you five more minutes."


	8. Fairytales

**A/N: Anyone have any ideas? It really is raining where I live. Awesome, right? Rain in June?**

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 354**

**Rated: K+**

Fairytales

We - Dimitri and I, Lissa and Christian - all sat in my living room, snuggling up under blankets. Outside, dominating dark clouds had finally choked the blue sky, pounding rain falling from them.

I sat watching rain, as Dimitri, Lissa and Christian were hooked on books. Over the crackling fire in the fire pit, I could hear booming thunder.

A childhood nursery rhyme came to mind as I watched the rain plat into puddles.

"It's rain-ing, it's pour-ing, the old man is snor-ing, fell out of bed and bumped his head and didn't get up in the mor-ning."

My voice was a breathy whisper, not loud enough to distract the others. Yet something about the words tickled my mind.

I sang the words a few more times before it finally clicked.

"Oh my God, he dies, doesnt he?" My friends looked up at that note, looking at me as if I've lost my mind.

"The old man. He dies! That's horrible! That means the song is some sort of mourning song! How can kids sing about that every time it rains? What if it's a true story? My childhood is ruined."

They look at me for a few seconds more before, nearly simultaneously, shaking their heads and sticking their noses back into their books.

"Don't ignore me! My whole childhood has been a lie!"

Dimitri, with whom I was sharing my blanket and cosying up to, pulled me to his chest and put his book down.

He whispered into my ear, "Think about it, many nursery rhymes are scary or upsetting. Even old fairy tales. In the original Cinderella, the step-sisters cut off their toes to fit the shoes. Snow White gets strangles. Sleeping Beauty was raped. The little mermaid dies."

For the rest of the night, Dimitri whispered the original fairytales and some old Russian stories into my ear, the booming of thunder creating a sinister atmosphere, making Dimitris heat that much more appealing.


	9. Contract

**A/N: IMPORTANT! I would just like you to know these drabbles are a sort of work out for me to practice my writing skills. At first I focused on fluff, but now I'll move on to more action/ drama type of stuff :) review and let your imagination go wild with this one!**

**POV: Rose**

**word count: 466**

**Rated: M**

**Contract**

Under the table I fiddled with the pen they gave me, expressing my apprehension. My face and body posture, on the other hand, were proud and strong. The light shone into my eyes like it does in one of those interrogation scenes on T.V. For the first time in my life, I felt sympathy for them, never really understanding what it felt like.

I re-read the papers that lay on the plastic table in front of me; still shocked at what they expected me to sign. I got half way through until one of them seemed to lose their patients.

He paced the plain room containing only us, a table, my chair and a lamp as I finished reading the contract. He clasped his hands behind his straight back, holding another envelope.

I took a deep breath, concentrating hard on not attacking this asshole. I clamped my jaw.

"Do you really think..." I started slowly, choosing my words carefully, "I would sign this?"

I pushed the papers away from me for dramatic effect and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms defensively. These actions made him stop in front of me, fingertips placed strategically on the table.

"Yes."

I threw my head back, barking out a laugh. At this, his bleak blue eyes flared with hatred. He straightened up again and clamped his hands behind his back.

"Oh, really? Have you ever heard about The constitutional Amendments? Or just human right? This piece of shit violates all of those rights and you would still think I'd... sign it? Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, are we?" I scoffed, patronizing him.

"Well," We spoke loud and clear, "I have a feeling _this_ will change your mind."

In a dramatic gesture, he threw the envelope he had been holding onto the desk, photographs of some sort spilling out.

"And this is supposed to impress me how...?" In fact, I was quite scared of this towering man and his strange threats. Even just this room gave me the creeps.

"Use your common sense, Ms. Hathaway, and _look _at the pictures."

Slowly, I pulled out the pictures. From that point on, I knew I was at this mans beck and call. The photos were of me, shaking and standing over the lifeless body of Victor Dashkov, shot from many different angles.

"How..." I cleared my throat, shaky hands fingering the edges of the pictures, "How did you get these?"

"We have our eyes everywhere, Ms. Hathaway." He looked proud of himself, standing even straighter than before.

"So, would you do us the honour and," He tapped the empty slot on the papers, "Sign? Or would you like these photos everywhere online?"

He had won.

With shaky hands, I put pen to paper, selling my soul (literally) to the devil.


	10. No More

**_A/N: Feedback appreciated! _**

**POV: Third person**

**Word count: 572**

**Rate: T**

This may vary between different academies and countries but, the last year of middle school is the year when Novices first learn to use hand on hand combat at St. Vladimir Academy.

Moroi scientist worry that before this age, young dhampirs cannot handle the pain and stress that these combat classes require and that their bodies have not matured and toughened enough, so before that year they just make the novices keep in shape and teach them techniques and theories to become better future guardians.

At the age of thirteen, Rosemarie was just as excited as the rest of her classmates about hand on hand combat. _This_ is what they have been waiting for, been training for. It had finally arrived. They were one step closer to becoming a Guardian.

It was almost tradition that the novices arrive an hour early to their first combat class, completely hyped up. Rose was no exception.

When the teacher entered, a weary, heartless Guardian (who seemed to have severe pediaphobia), complete silence fell. He explained the course and scared all the students, in normal, first-day-of-school manner. This was the most important course, he said. This course makes up a large procentage of their grade, he said. If they don't listen carefully and do as said, they will never become Guardians, he said.

Afterwards, he demonstrated some of the most basic fighting moves. Kicks, punches, falling methods. Then, he wanted to test how well they had been listen and scanned the crowd for a battle opponent.

There. His eyes had sought out young Rose, rosy cheeks and round face, daughter of a legendary fighter. She _must_ have potential. He called her up, sneering her surname.

But she was just as inexperienced as the rest of them as stood before him with shaky fists. After fifteen minutes of beating up the minor, he released her, bruised and hurt, but not before rubbing salt into the wound.

"Your mother would be disappointed."

Her mother was always a touchy subject and being compared to her stung. Many people had this expectation of her, just because of being a Hathaway. They expected her to be a brilliant fighter, controlled and just an exact copy of Janine. But she wasn't, and that's what they didn't seem to get.

After class was dismissed, Rose ran into a bathroom stall, tears running its own path down her cheeks. She had done nothing wrong, yet had been punished. Her blue knees were evidence.

But this cycle continued over the next few weeks, Rose being the horrible teachers dummy. She was being outright bullied about being someone's DAUGHTER. She tried as hard as she could, yet never reached the level they wanted. The expectations were just too high.

One afternoon, she looked into the mirror, a sobbing version of herself looking back. She barely recognized her. And not recognizing your own reflection is one of the scariest things on earth.

_Never again would she cry about a jerk_, she swore to herself. _She will graduate top of her class to teach him a lesson not to mess with a Hathaway_.

With high spirits, she left the bathroom, wiping her tears. _No more._

And she did as she promised herself. She proved everyone wrong.


	11. Guts

**A/N: I did this Drabble in honour of one of my friends. Well done, you! :) also, these drabbles are getting kind of long, aren't they? Also, I don't have a beta so excuse my mistakes.**

**POV: Viktoria**

**Word count: 585**

**Rate: K+**

Guts

Where I live, getting knocked up at seventeen or eighteen is no big deal. Pretty common, actually. My grandmother did with my mother, my mother did with my siblings and I and sisters did with their children. The argument was always that we are furthering our own race, even though many knew that wasnt true. Hell, even my friends were getting pregnant.

But not me.

Many people were proud of me, I could tell. Happy I was not just another number for statistics and that I would be smart enough to know better. You should see my mother, lighting up with pride when I tell her I am going to University. There isn't anything better than a proud mother. Singing old tunes while making a special dinner, just for me.

I dreaded telling her the truth behind my so called 'wise choices'.

"...And you've signed the form for the lease, right?" Mia Rinaldi sat across from me in the cosy resturant, fidling with her blue beanie. I met her through Rose when I came to visit Dimka at Court and Rose was training with moroi, to my surprise. The way Mia moved with water was so graceful, as if she was one with it, it had me mesmerized. After that, we hit it off and even kept contact when I left.

To my utter surprise, Mia moved to Omsk after graduating to study Pharmacology and recruit new prodigies. After she giving me her puppy eyed look a few times with her anime blue eye, she convinced me to start studying their too, in a subject I've been interested in nearly all my life: archeology.

So, logically, we have just leased an apartment to live together in. It was the first time I've ever lived away from my mum.

Mia brought me out of my daydream by grabbing my hand. "You've... You've told her, right?" She stared at me with concern as I shook my head. She was referring to my mother, how was I going to tell her?

Mia leaned over, placing a soft, reassuring kiss on my lips. Hers tasted of coconut. Oh, how I the taste!

"Don't worry," She stroked my bare leg with her sandaled foot, sending shivers through my body, "For what I heard and seen, she could never disown you for being yourself! She would be proud you admitted it to yourself and others and that you don't care if people judge you. And just so you know, IM proud as well." She sent me a cheeky grin.

I grabbed her other hand and squeezed it. "I can only do this stuff because you back me up. I cannot describe how much I love you! I can't! But not everyone sees us that way."

She rolled her pretty eyes at me. "You give yourself too little credit. And how many times do we have to go over this? People who think that are narrow minded, and often jerks, they need to grow up."

I sighed in response. I wish I had her guts. I was going to do it. Tell my mum.

Mia seemed to read the determination in my face and knew what was going on. "Okay, now that that's dealt with," She perked up and checked out to menu, "What to get?"


	12. Ring

**POV: Rose**

**Word count: 638**

**Rated: K**

Ring

I enter the room officially known as 'The Royal Sleeping Chamber' (which all Guardians seem to refer to it as 'The Chamber of Secrets' due to some sort of inside joke I don't get) to find Lissa sitting cross legged in the middle of her king sized bed, concentrating hard on something she was cupping in her hands. Even when I tried to catch her attention, she just lifted one dainty finger and squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. i was pretty sure I saw sweat running down her temple.

All of a sudden, the object in her hand gave out a loud, squeaky pop and a flash of bright light. It reminded me of the time we convinced our science teacher to burn magnesium, the light was that blinding.

"What..." I blinked away the bright spots behind my eyelids, "Was that?"

"Hey Rose." Lissa greeted with a tired smile, eye lids drooping. She had been practicing Spirit, that was obvious. Yet, she seemed extremely proud of the small shiny thing she flipped around in her hand.

I reluctantly climbed onto the bed to get a better look at the mysterious object. The bed gave me the chills, since it was the same the bed Tatiana was murdered on. Lissa had begged to have it replaced, but it seemed it was tradition that nothing in the Kings/Queens chamber was to be changed. "What is it?" Curiosity was taking over. On further inspection, it seemed to be a ring, rimed in onyx. Actually it reminded me of a-

"Mood ring," Lissa yawned.

"Well, I don't know a lot about mood rings, but I'm pretty sure they don't catch fire or whatever just happened. What did you do with it?"

She flashed me an enthusiastic smile. "Well, I did some research on compulsion and charms and found out that you can charm objects to manipulate people feelings, like Victor did with that attack charm he gave you," I should really tell her the truth about that charm. But I don't think telling her I was about to get laid while she was being tortured will make her too happy, so I let it go. "But that was only simple magic, so I thought since my compulsion is much strong then regular compulsion, I could actually charm something to _show _how someone felt. Hence, the ring."

I shook my head. " You're going crazy. And not Albert Einstein crazy. Crazy crazy."

"Don't believe me? Watch this," She grabbed my hand, "How are you feeling?"

"Umm, no offense, but kind of freaked out?" She slipped the ring onto my finger, completely concentrated on the ring, and we watched it turn from black to purple.

"Aha!" She glowed of happiness and pride, handing me a sheet of worn paper with the colours and what they mean. Purple meant scared. "See? It works!"

"Wow." I had not seen that one coming. And this one wasn't a cheap knock off, since the ring instantly turned yellow to symbolize my surprise. Lissa was pretty much prancing around the room before collapsing onto her bed.

"I have to try again." She reached for her bedside table, where there were a pile more mood rings.

"Hell no. Tomorrow maybe. But now it's beddy time." She complained softly, but fell asleep instantly after I covered her in a blanket. Magic really sucked the energy out of her.

I slipped the ring into my pocket. This could be an amazing way on keeping tabs on Dimitri's emotions. A hell lot easier than trying to figure them out. I couldn't thank Lissa enough.


	13. Kiss

_A/N: Any suggestions?_

**POV: Rose**_  
_

**Word count: 446**

**Rated: K+**

First kisses are something many hold dear to their hearts. Many of my friends had had amazing first kiss experiences, while the others... Not so good.

Mine was one of the not so good.

It happened a few days before Christmas. Very romantic, right? Wrong. Oh, so wrong.

It was the last day before school ended and I'd go with Lissa and her family to a ski resort. I was twelve at the time and our class had to celebrate some lame ass Christmas party with the whole of the younger department. Loads of little toddlers where running around while the teachers tried to sit everyone down to watch a Christmas movie - something to do with a train.

I excused myself from my friends to get some more sprite, trying to straighten my Santa hat. It was way to big for me.

Someone kept tugging on the back of my skirt so I, irritably, turned to find out who it was, spilling half my soda. It was a little blond boy with a mushroom haircut and fleckes the size of coins. "What?" I basically growled. At this point, I should confess: I was PMSing.

"You're pretty! Wanna kiss me?"

"No, thanks. Maybe once you've grown a few inches." I turned my back, ready to leave when he stopped me again.

"WAIT! Look at that!" He pointed to the white berries some of the older pupils must have hung over the refreshments tables as a joke. "Mistletoe! Now you HAVE to kiss me!" He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, ready for his smooch.

"You're one persistent little bugger, aren't you? No is no." I refilled my drink.

"At least on the cheek?" He stretched out his cheek for me.

"Fine." I sighed with an eye roll, leaning down to kiss his cheek. I should have known better. Just before I reached his cheek, he turned his face to kiss my lips and to make me stay down, he grabbed my eyes and slobbered all over my lips.

I was shocked, to say the least. A five year old as a first kiss?

He ran away straight afterwards to brag to his friends. I didn't have the energy to chase him. I was too humiliated.

I never told any of my friends what happened out of sheer embarrassment. But now, years later, it's the funniest story I've ever told.


	14. Poison

**POV: Unknown **

**Word count: 464**

**Rated: T**

Poison

Perched on the on a sturdy branch and cloaked by the lush green leaves, I had a perfect view of the birthday party. Everyone was happy, smiling, dancing, some of my worst enemies gathered in one living room celebrating the birthday of _precious_ Queen Vasilisa.

She didn't deserve that title; she is nothing but a little meddling into a world of no use of her. So I would end her reign. One way or another.

I watched as they sang in unison and celebrated the _wonderful_ Queen, giddy with what was to come next. The cake.

The cake which, completely oblivious, contained a few more ingredients than they were aware of.

They all sat down. The Queen sat next to that good-for-nothing Ozera and on the other side the exotic guardian that would fit perfectly on the cover of the Playboy magazine was wrapped around the tall Dhampir. More, not so important, people filled the rest of the seats.

The cake was cut. I was grinning like a fool; the plan was running perfectly.

The first piece was placed on Vasilisa's plate. She lifted her fork, about to stab the cheesecake. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon.

Then, out of no where, a foreign fork pierced her cake and a piece disappeared down the exotic beauty's throat.

I calmed myself. It was just a small bump, but as long as it disappeared down the queens throat, I was good.

I faintly heard the other girl joking to see if the Queen was being poisoned. They all laughed, unaware of what was going on. The Queen nudged her friend before picking up her fork again. My stomache dropped. Eat...

Just before she could open her mouth, the door flew open, enter a moroi and dhampir, hand in hand.

That's when I started to panic. The brunette would react to the poison in the cake before Vasilisa could eat it, screwing up my plan. Shit!

Everyone flew out of their chair to welcome the belated couple. Vasilisa was the first to hug them both.

Then, the poison started working. The exotic beauty paled, dry heaving. No one noticed, at first, expect the towering guardian she was clucking onto.

That is, until she crashed to the floor, gripping her stomach, crying out in pain. The room became eerily silent, frozen. Then, everything sprung to life, everybody crowding around the poor victim.

Mission: failed. Casualties: one.

I had to get out of their before someone recognized me. I hit the ground running.


	15. Pink

_A/N: this is another rather odd one. Strange, actually. Dont really expect anyone to like it, but we dont know what goes on in her head. Tell me what you think of this! Inspired by an amateur poet. _

**POV: Avery**

**Word count: 78**

**Rated: M**

Pink

Pink.

Pink... so delicate, yet devious, either the flush on a blushing girls face or the colour of a provocting dress.

Pink.

Pink.

All I see is pink. The cell, my hair, the people 'tending' me. They're all... Pink.

I'm pink. The world is pink.

Fluffy pink clouds, pink water, pink eyes, pink pavements.

Red.

A stronger version of Pink.

Horrible.

Disgusting.

Simon.

He saw red. But pink would have been better.

Reed too.

Pink, relaxing.

That is...

That bitch's shirt, the one in Dragomirs head, it was pink.

Suddenly, everything turned red.

Red.

Red.

Red is good.

**To Only The Lucky: Thank you SOOO much for your reviews! It really means a lot and I'm really glad you like my drabbles. I consider myself more of one of the lowly authors, while I read you're work and it's AMAZING! This chapter, although strange, is dedicated to you. I might do a second part to the poison one, but I have to think it through more. The turtle was named Sheldon because she had been watching The Big Bang Atheory re-runs and I also love the gory old fairytales. I read them in the original (German, since the brothers Grimm wrote most of them) and its even more spookier. So, thanks again!**


	16. Tomorrow

****A/N: My longest yet! Decided R/D deserved some loving. I'm going to be gone for seven days on a cruise, so no updates! Sorry!

**POV: Dimitri**

**Word count: 739**

**Rated: K+**

Tomorrow

He checked my watch once again, counting the seconds until he could get out of this biting cold. Normally, he loved having a shift in night (day) hours and especially outside, as he could let my mind drift and be all to himself. Nothing to worry about, no people to please, no reason to be smiling or putting on a show. He could just be himself. But the weather was just not agreeing with him.

Even now, during the last hours of daylight, it was in the minus degrees and due to recent events, he wouldn't dare let my mind wonder. If he did, memories of what happened to Rose and her friends in Spokane popped up. Her traumatised expression, that poor ginger, her shaking body, it all came back to him. He felt horrible for being the one that caused this. He knew Rose blames herself for what happened, but she shouldn't. I shouldn't have told.

And then, the 'what if' questions resurface, like they did every time he was alone. What if she hadn't found the swords? What if they hadn't even escaped? Just the idea of losing Rose scared him. He shouldn't have let the Spokane incident happen. He shouldn't have let Rose go through that alone.

A rustling sound to his left brought him out of thoughts he shouldn't even be thinking. This was the first intresting thing that has been happening in day. Even he, the calm, collected Guardian needed something exciting to do once in a while.

Slowly, he tiptoed to the sound, stake at the ready. He pushed aside the bushes to reveal...

Rose.

He sighed, "Breaking the rules again? And why would you want to be outside in this weather?"

He waited for the trademark snarky response, but it never came. Rose was just mumbling something under her breath, hands fiddling with a bush, as if stuck in it.

"What are you say?" He started getting concerned, did this have something to do with Spokane? And what was up with her fascination with the bush?

That's when he realized that her eyes were shut; sleeping. She was sleepwalking.

"Rose," He had once read somewhere not to wake up a sleepwalker and just to bring them back to bed. That was his plan. "Rose, get your hands out the bush. C'mon." her gently coaxed her wrists out the bush, even though she was still chanting something under her breath.

She started whining and tipping over to one side, but he caught her. She wasn't allowed to wake up. He wrapped his arms around her waisted and hoisted her up, so she stood on her own feet again.

"This way." He muttered, leading her.

Her muttering became louder and he could pick out some words, like 'Mason' and 'Sword' and 'Please'. He even heard his own name a few times, which sent unexplainable thrills through him. Just to know he was in her dream, made his day. Even if it were a bad dream. All he wanted to do was hide her in the cabin Tasha stayed at and nurse her until she could deal with the trauma of losing Mason. But that was just a fantasy. No use in thinking it.

They finally reached her cramped dorm room. He flicked on her light and pulled back her blanket. He let Rose herself get in bed, coaxing her with encouraging words, but in the end helped get her legs up. He wrapped her the blanket tight around, scared by how much he enjoyed taking care of this vulnerable version of Rose. But he had to admit: nothing could beat a strong Rose.

When done, Roses dream seemed to end and a tranquil expression replaced her other one. He watched a few moments long, then, hesitantly, leaned down to gently kiss her forehead.

He turned to leave, but before over thinking it and deeming it stupid, he turned back and quickly grazed his lips against hers. The small tingles never ceased to amaze him.

He flicked the light switch and gently closed her door. He really needed to talk to her tomorrow.


	17. The Call

**IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! Could everyone who reads my drabbles please do me a BIG favour and just comment 'like' or 'good' on your to three or so favourite drabble? It would help me a lot to see what you like and what I can improve on. Thank you!**

**POV: third person**

**Word count: 408**

**Rated: T**

**The Call**

That day started like any other.

The elderly woman, her body worn after bearing four children (all of which had finally moved out), followed her regular Saturday morning routine.

She exchanged kind words with neighbours she has known since they were all still in diapers on her way to the grocery store, she read a few chapters of a romance novel recommended by a friend, licking her slightly shaking fingers before turning the pages. She opened the French doors leading to the garden for the old cat scratching at the glass, grumbling why he never used the cat door, and poured him so dry food into his metal bowl. She enjoyed watching the news in peace, with no children or grand children around that wanted to watch cartoons instead.

Olena Belikova had settled into her retired lifestyle well. With all her children well in their thirties, she had little to worry about (excluding that attention seeking cat of hers).

Olena started cooking, one of her life's passions, and was tearing away the out layers of the salad when the shrill landline began to ring. She stiffened at the rarely heard sound. Nearly no one rang the landline anymore one she was finally convinced by her youngest daughter to get a mobile.

At the second ring, she rushed to find the kitchen towel to dry of her hands. Once dry, she threw the blue and white towel over her shoulder and picked up her phone.

The number who was calling brought a smile to her face. Her only son, the one who moved away the furthest, was a very busy man. He had created a life in the United States where she wasn't a big part of, with a beautiful and fiery wife, Rose, who was exactly what he needed. She was always glad to know he had time for her.

"Dimka!" She accepted the call and pulled some of her greying hair out the way to hear better. "What a surprise!"

There was a dead silence over. Then her son pulled in a deep, broken breath. Her tone changed.

"Dimitri?"

"She's dead."

It came out chocked and strangled. The way he said it, it seemed even surreal to him.

She grabbed at her heart, which seemed to twist in her chest. A very rare emotion, she had only ever felt twice before. It was masochism, but she had to ask.

"Who?" She whispered.

Before answering, he sobbed. "Rose."

**A/N: Why am I becoming obsessed with the idea of Rose dying? I am a sick person :/**


	18. Vote

**POV: Third**

**Word count: 270**

**Rated: T**

Vote

The soft _drip! drip! drip!_ of a leaking tap _somewhere_ in the moldy basement room (the most boring setting for a kidnapping, she scoffed) was the only thing distracting the young, human blond from her string of - not so pleasant - thoughts of her dozing kidnapee buddy.

The poorly lit room contained not only the two young women, but a wide range of races. The moroi and human were tied with creaky manacles attached to the wall. The dhampir, due to their education, were spread out further from the bunch, hands stretched tightly over their heads and tied there as well.

Their position formed a sort of trust circle, tense and sore from the position they were forced to stay in. The human was espesically tense. She was in a house full of parasites (_vampires_, she corrected herself) and even if the ones in the room she was in we're also captives and not so bad, she was irked.

She focused all those negative emotions on the brunette Guardian next to her. The sharp, bluish light sharpened half of her sleeping, peaceful face, the other half still misted in shadows.

Footsteps from above, the creaking boards creating the horror film effect that frightened so many at night, woke up the sleeping woman. It was time for the stiff Alchemist to say something.

She cleared her throat, un-used from the lack of communication in the room. That caught everyone's attention. Eager eyes sought out hers, questioning if she's found a way to escape.

"You know," Sydney's voice was hoarse, "I've been thinking."

"And?" Christian, deprived of blood to keep him from using magic to escape, didn't think the 'mere human' could think of anything to two famous Hathaway's couldn't.

"Has anyone realized," She started slowly, gaining speed with each word, "That we only ever get in this mess when we go after Rose's plan?"

Rose, sleep wearing off, stared shocked as her friends and family nodded their heads, realizing this significant occurance for the first time.

"Are you kidding me?!" Rose felt insulted, if not the statement was a _little_ true.

"Sorry little girl, she's right." Her father mused, for the first time in his life in the position of a victim, not a predator.

Her best friend and boyfriend (Rose felt ridiculous calling him that; that word was for fourteen year olds) subtly nodding along. Rose glared. Those two will never hear the end of this.

"So this leads to the obvious conclusion that we should never listen to Rose. Ever again." The venom in Sydney's voice broke through the last few words.

That's when Rose's self control broke. She screamed obscenities, insults and something's made no sense whatsoever. After calming down, Sydney's spoke in her diplomatic voice.

"Well, we could be democratic about this. Who _votes_ that we never listen to Rose again?"

Slowly, yet steadily, hands raised, as well as they could, with tied hands. Rose glared holes over and over, eyes basically stuck in a squint. Her lips puckered in distaste. She was about to burst into flames.

When all hands were raised, Sydney smiled smugly (a very rare occasion) while Rose swore under her breath.

"Fuck you, guys. Just... Fuck you."

Little did they know, Rose's crazy plan got them out in the end. And the next time a similar situation happened. And another time.

It didn't matter that she got them in the situation in first place.


End file.
